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A peaceful place made on the corpse of chaos.

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Cat Lady.

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Addendum:

The Junkers don't like the Quintessons.

They're just... neutral enough to actually talk to them without sneering or resorting to immediate violence. Big smile for everyone, even if it's a little forced.

This is one reason many on Cybertron think of Quintus' children as being traitorous. That added to the sheer bias against the Prime modeled after 'all that was good' of the universe-colonizers made for quite a bit of hate, discrimination, and insulting nicknames.

Rest assured, Quintus and their children have no love for the squids. They're just a lot better at being subtle in their trade wars. Bhrrrrr goes the QP, right down the economic drain. Ha ha.

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The Junk Folk are friendly. They trade with anyone. They have no qualms, no bias, no ill intent. They love to swap garbage and watch Dream-TV.

They do so with ultimate trust in their Prime-God. Quintus is clever, you see. They, while not embodying life like Arisen or being a Source like Primus, managed to alter life. New shapes for old sparks with some extra in there.

Junkers do not fear death. Unless you can find their spark (rarely in the expected place), they'll pull themselves back together. No wound is forever, even if most just keep it around for the memories. And if they do die, from illness or choice or a successful kill, they open their sparkplates so Mortilus can get to them quicker. They go with grace.

Few care about being eaten either. All go to the same place eventually. In fact, some might sacrifice themselves to their maddened friend, just to give them a few days more of sanity.

That said.

Disconnect Dream-TV or Interstellar-TV and the entire tribe will find you.

And do terrible, terrible things.

That will be televised.

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It took a lot of work by Wreck-Gar to get Rodimus to appreciate his beard, at least enough to let it grow on occasion.

No one can break through the mustache hate.

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About: The People of Junkion

Colloquial names: Junkers, Junk Folk, Parts, Q-2s (very insulting), Scrap People (insulting only to the speaker), and Heretics (used solely by Primalists).

Junkers (their usual nickname for eachother) are the inhabitants of Junkion, aka CSS Quintus. They were the first tribe to take to the stars, having left during the Prime War.

There are two common styles of Junkers. The Planet-Side Junkers are the best known: they're rusty, cobbled together, and seem damn near unkillable. They're the ones who go out hunting and trading. The Interstellar Junker (the older mold: very similar to Quintus themselves) is quite different: most never experience proper gravity, tending to their tunnels of energon and working on their inventions. They glow in even the darkest of voids.

Both typings are well known for being asymmetrical.

Neon shades are common in optics. Bright red or salmon is the usual, but some Junkers have changed to other shades to keep from getting attacked by Autobots.

Those of Junkion are best identified with their markings. The white faceplate and pitch markings are painted on and usually touched up weekly, though some have modded them on permanently. Few Junkers have the same markings: it's considered an insult to wear another person's paint.

They're an odd society, deeply intertwined with every inhabited planet and friendly to anyone. They love trash. They barter energon for trash, they give trash to eachothers as gifts (asking to bond requires the finest of garbage), and they literally make themselves out of trash. Parts sharing is common: some will even trade entire lower halves when they get bored.

Unlike most of the tribes, the Junkers worship the entire pantheon. They're the only ones who give consideration to Unicron, who they consider to be the Almighty Vacuum Cleaner, and thus are the only ones who are friendly around sparkeaters. Everyone is part of the spiral of materials.

Despite their friendliness, some on-worlders view them as thieves, charlatans, traitors (as they trade, even warily, with Quintessons), and greedy. On Cybertron, many establishments had no-Junker rules in place. Even through discrimination and hate, they continued to be as friendly as ever when the rest of the planet joined them in the beyond.

Notable Examples:

Like in many tribes, the City Speaker is the leader. Nancii (pronounced nancy) is well loved amongst her people and one of the longest-running City Speakers known. Her bond with Quintus is nearly perfect, allowing her to grow in size, power, and understanding. Quintus is the deity of Dreams, after all; she can walk (or slither) beside them across the dreamscapes of all of Primus' children, bringing growth and realization to any who need it.

Wreck-Gar is a dear friend of Rodimus' and was the primary junk trader in Kaon. He taught the boy many things of sparkeaters, Unmakyrs, and acceptance. Last they saw eachother, Wreck-Gar had finally found the perfect piece of scrap to propose to his beau. She accepted and he's now King Consort, though he rarely does much in royal terms. His favourite past-time is watching Milky Way TV.

Lockdown is a younger Junker, having been made right before the War. He was exiled for poaching, thievery, and the greatly insulting act of painting his new additions. Despite the stigma, he still wears his paints: this deeply angers most Junkers, making him one of the few people who are shot immediately in any fight. He's a suave thing anyway, even if he has little luck with getting much from his former tribe. Supposedly deals with Quintesson High Command. And Swindle, who is given less priority because he's annoying.

Honorary members of Junkion are permitted to wear their own markings. Rodimus was inducted by Wreck-Gar after helping him find the perfect piece of scrap, and Nightshade was inducted because they looked like a poorly socialized owlette and Nancii felt terrible for them.

Rodimus tends to wear his paint for 'fancy' events. Dignitaries, important parties, ceremonies, etc. It's one of the few times he lets his beard grow out. No mustache, though. If he has a mustache, someone needs to put him down.

Wearing paint when you're not approved will end in someone shooting you in the foot. They will know. No one knows how but they know.

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sole exception to Hate

do you like ✨️jazz✨️

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do you like ✨️jazz✨️

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Jazz could be the tallest of the Second Hand, but he decided being small enough to headbutt people in the crotch was a better idea.

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Topic: The Second Hand

Author: P1, translated from audio file

Little finger, 80% increase of Angolmois. Ring finger, 70% increase of Angolmois. Middle finger, 40% increase of Angolmois. Index finger, 50% increase of Angolmois. Thumb, 1% Ambrosia.

Not much like me anymore. But that's better, isn't it? Clearly, I don't work as a base. Unicron-- maybe. Maybe. If well-meaning makes tyrants and multi-faced dictators, maybe cruel will make someone kind.

I don't know what else to do. I just make. Make make make make. I make to hide, I make to run, I make to right, I make to make others do what I should have just done earlier. It's cruel, because I know what I have to do and no child deserves to be brought into that, but--

Maybe. Maybe it'll help. Maybe I won't have to turn off the energon. Maybe I won't have to cease spark expression. Maybe things will right and I can sleep knowing my children are kind, wonderful beings.

They're not. They're-- not. Unicron was right. Frag it all.

Ambiance. Starscream. Ostaros. Nightshade. And... Rodimus. A second try from my other hand. Their domains start the same as prior but I'm not putting them in stone. Maybe letting them figure things out will work better.

Maybe. Maybe.

I'm so sorry.

[Recording devolves into sobbing for four minutes and eighteen seconds. Recording then cuts off.]

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Name, Title: Nightshade

Affiliation: Neutral

Spark Type: A3

Alt: Indian Eagle Owl (not especially convincing)

Weapons of Choice: Sleeves/Wings

ID Number: 4/5gh2

Covenant Notes:

An odd one. They joined the Praxus colony when the Junkers left just the other week ago. I'm not entirely sure why: they've shown no interest in the cause, nor a willingness to align in any direction. They just... follow people around, writing things down, recording processes, making these weird trinkets, etc.

I know that's technically what I do, sans inventing, but I think I'm a bit more polite about it. Instead of just... looming. And I really, really don't like how they're looking at the Covenant.

Secrets, Lies, and Other Things:

Second youngest of the Second Hand, Nightshade crawled out of the dust on a little asteroid orbiting Cybertron. There was no one else there. But the spoils of Epistemus filled that void: what they lacked for social activity they supplimented with pure knowledge.

When the Exodus began in full, they were picked up by a passing Junkion tradeship. From there they accompanied the Junkers in their travels, gathering the knowledge of the galaxy with a glee few understand. When the ship stopped by Earth, they popped off and joined the Praxus to further their studies.

Most find them a bit strange. Even the most social tribe of Cybertron can't make up for thousands of years of no contact. They're very friendly either way.

They're also the only Finger to be on pretty good terms with their prior. Epistemus is quite fond of the owlette: it designed them itself, after all.

Design Notes:

The only post-G1 character in the Second Hand.

Extremely birdlike, from their beaked face to the claws on their feet. Mildly unsettling, but very friendly. Like Starscream, they look to be wearing clothing.

As an adopted child of Junkion (and thus Quintus), they're permitted to wear the traditional facepaint. It's generally only brought out for special occasions.

Constantly making little trills and coos, but can't do so on command.

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A tangled web of love, hate, and Starscream not really knowing what the differences between those are.

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Name, Title: Princess Blackarachnia, Triptych Heir

Affiliation: Insecticons, Autobots

Spark Type: Vector

Alt: Hanging Spider

Weapons of Choice: Leg Lance, Venom, Judgemental Stare

ID Number: airaqI778

Covenant Notes:

Princess of the Insecticons on CSS Triptych. She's pretty serious, studious, brilliant and isn't one for idle conversation.

But, as it turns out, we have the same favourite comic. Good way to bond find commonality. I'm not going to say that under all that dark plating is someone kind, but she's a lot more interested in the wellbeing of her people than her Queen.

I hear she's pretty I heard she's rather handy with her Lance. But her Queen puts her on paperwork most of the time. That bug is paranoid as pit.

wait is it okay to call airachnid a bug?? she's mean and scary and I think she's on angolmois. is 'bug' an okay title for a probable cannibal? who is very mean???

Secrets, Lies, and Other Stuff:

Yeah, no surprise there. Like Optimus and Grimlock, Elita immediately reincarnated. Whether or not being born to a colony run by her steed's ex in a position to usurp said ex is happenstance or Chronoarchitect actually having a sense of humor is up to debate.

No concrete story beats yet. She'll leave the Insecticons at some point to join the Autobots, returning to her usual pink paintjob, and take up her position as a Dinobot Rider again. Might kill her Queenmom if Megatron doesn't snap and do it first.

As an Insecticon that refuses to indulge in angolmois, she'd be one of the hundred who doesn't immediately turn into shambling zombies when Unicron wakes up.

Design Notes:

Popped out of an Allspark Pool with riding pads and flexible feet already built in. She usually walks with the pads of her foot pulled up; apparently, she can kinda taste with her spider feet and is not fond of that.

Has a relatively normal amount of eyes for a non-mammalian beastformer. Supposedly.

Like with Elita, her marks are Wastlander based. She doesn't remember much context but likes how it looks on her, even if she has to cover it with her helmet. She doesn't immediately resemble her prior, as Orion does, but there's little uncanny things that make Airachnid very, very uncomfortable around her; the helmet helps.

Not 100% on Blackarachnia's colour scheme. I tried a colder purple and it just looked weird: the one pictured is a pinker purple.

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Name, Title: Elita One, Front Line Dinobot Rider

Affiliation: Autobots, the Riders

Spark Type: Vector

Alt: Horned Beetle

ID Number: np778w11If

Weapons of Choice: Starsaber (not pictured), her Jousting Horns, Running People Over With Grimlock

Covenant Notes (Author O/P);

I've seen holostatues of her. She was the head of the Earth colonization project and really well regarded. Windblade speaks very fondly of her; I guess they had a House-like relationship, even if there's no titles involved.

She was dead by the time I arrived on Earth. She was probably dead when I arrived in the Sol System. She and her Dinobot (a Grimlock, not to be confused with the current Grimlock) passed away nearly immediately after the last Prime did.

I didn't know Primes were allowed to bond. Acolytes, sure, maybe even an Empress: but to actually merge? Seems dangerous. Was dangerous, especially for the two here on Earth.

Covenant Notes (Author A3):

Well, at least this is one step up from his usual tastes.

Secrets, Lies, and Other Stuff:

She didn't talk much about her life prior. Maybe there's not much to tell, or maybe it hurt, or maybe she was amongst the many shadowplayed into newness. She never said.

What happened after was more important. She opened her cavern home in the Wastes to wanderers of all kind; including an angry, mourning Beast King. It was hard to separate them after, especially once he bowed his head to let her upon his back.

When the War came, she and her Riders (of lost mechanicals, both beast and wheeled) in a colosseum of her own making were scouted for the effort by both sides. Megatron denied her request to decide her alignment with a fight. Optimus did. She joined the Autobots in the end, bringing most of the outcast beastformers with her.

Clearly, she was pretty close with Optimus. Enough that they bonded, enough that they tried some very dangerous spark experiments, and enough to take the result of that away to keep them safe.

Design Notes:

Bulky, large, exceedingly pink. She's a beetle of some aggressive sort with no shame in charging at people screaming; Arcee takes deeply after her. Like many non-mammalian beastformers, she has way too many eyes. No wings, but she can use her shell/wings to give herself a little boost when jumping.

As a Dinobot Rider, she has thick padding on her legs and highly flexible feet. She's also exceptionally large for a rider. This suits Grimlock (large in his own right) and they work this added weight into a variety of flinging attacks.

Her markings are Wastlander based, not Speaker Based. They do not glow or bloom.

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... well then.

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That all to say, any comment of 'sister' by Rodimus to Starscream is purely insulting.

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'Siblings', in Cybertronian terms, is almost exclusively used in cases where mechanicals are born in a batch, usually emerging at the same time.

This is usually exclusive to twins, trines, quartet, and thus on. The largest of these sets are the very rare 13-strong groups, while the smallest is the two-sparks-one-body folks. Both are quite rare. Groups of 2, 3, and 5 are most common.

Most are born at the exact same moment, with a few being within seconds of eachother. This helps cement in a sibling-bond. Most emerge or online holding eachother's hand too.

Trines are usually siblings. 'Transplanting' seekers into trines was common in the late Golden Age, having bodies and sparks moved around to suit the old King's tastes. Starscream being unrelated to her trine is a result of this process, though not by the King's hands.

Because of these schemantics, neither of the Hands nor the Thirteen are considered siblings. All were made with sizable gaps between each addition.